The Lust Potion
by PD31
Summary: The kids are at school and our favourite couple have the house to themselves. When real life doesn't let them enjoy it the way they'd like, Hermione decides that something has to be done. EWE


**The Lust Potion**

 **Pairing:** Harry and Hermione

 **Rating:** M

 **Summary:** The kids are at school and our favourite couple have the house to themselves. When real life doesn't let them enjoy it the way they'd like, Hermione decides that something has to be done. EWE

 **Disclaimer: JK owns the Harry Potter world and all the characters in it; I've just borrowed them for this story.**

* * *

 _Number 12, Grimmauld Place,_

 _London_

 _Monday, 5_ _th_ _September, 2011_

"Hi babe," Auror Squad Leader Harry Potter called wearily as he emerged from the fireplace, having just flooed home from work. He scanned the kitchen door and smiled as he saw his wife's coat hanging up and realised that his greeting wasn't in vain; quite often she would be home even later from her job in the Minister's Office.

Today, though, he heard the dulcet tones of the love of his life returning the greeting, though she sounded as exhausted as he felt, and saw Kreacher, the house elf he had inherited from his godfather's family along with the house, emerging from the shadows.

"Good evening Master Harry," the old elf greeted him cordially.

"Hello Kreacher," he smiled.

"Will master and mistress be wanting dinner soon?"

"I think so," he replied. "Did Hermione say anything when she got home?"

"Just that Kreacher was to wait until Master Harry was home," the elf explained.

"Ok, maybe in about fifteen minutes then?"

"Of course," Kreacher bowed and retreated back into the depths of the kitchen while Harry hung his coat up next to his wife's and left the kitchen to find her.

It didn't take him long; she was sat in a small room on the ground floor that they had converted into a study for her (with him using the study on the first floor) poring over sheaves of parchment with a glum expression darkening her features. She seemed not to register his presence until he was standing behind her, placing soft kisses on her neck. Suddenly she straightened as if a jolt of electricity had flown through her (and, in truth, Harry's touch had always given her that sort of feeling, especially when, in addition to his kisses, his arms snuck under hers and his hands rested on her robe-clad breasts) and her head turned in his direction, the work on her desk briefly forgotten as he captured her lips in a soft kiss.

"Hi Harry," she was blushing like a schoolgirl at the way her husband could always make her body react no matter how she was feeling.

"Busy day?" he asked sympathetically between kisses.

"Yes," she confirmed breathlessly before thinking of work brought the fatigue back to her, "it's just all so frustrating," her voice began to rise, "I've been working on new laws and amendments to increase the rights of muggle-borns and non-human magicals, but _every time_ I have to water them down."

Harry took her hand gently between his. "You know why," he reminded her sympathetically.

"I know," she groaned, "even with Kingsley's support there's only so much we can get through the Wizengamot; the pure bloods' influence is growing again so we need to get the muggle-born protections in place, which most of them are still agreeing to but the Goblins? Elves? Centaurs? Anything but the most basic improvements will get thrown out every time," she raved.

"Just keep doing your best," he encouraged, his hands began to gently squeeze her breasts; he delighted in the way she shivered involuntarily before their lips locked again. "Speaking of elves, I asked Kreacher to have dinner for us in about…" he glanced at the clock on the wall behind them, "ten minutes." Reluctantly he withdrew his hands and straightened up. "I'll go change," he announced and left the room.

Hermione ran a hand through her bushy hair. "I should as well," she agreed with a glance at her dress robes and she followed her husband upstairs, following his lead in changing into jeans and a T-shirt. She smiled at the feeling of his eyes on her as she changed (particularly as she removed her bra before pulling on a T-shirt), though fatigue and the promise of dinner prevented her from commenting on it or taking advantage of the look in his eyes. She smiled again, though, as she saw him leaning against the door frame as she finished, waiting to take her hand and lead her back down to the kitchen.

As they entered the room Kreacher reappeared. "Master, mistress," he nodded, "dinner is ready," and with that proclamation bowls of vegetable soup appeared on the table. The Potters sat down and began to eat, insisting, as usual, that Kreacher join them.

After their main course (steak) and dessert (ice cream) they retired upstairs, informing the house elf that he was free to do what he wished with the remainder of the evening. Hermione made for the study until Harry caught her arm and pulled her towards himself.

"Not tonight," he whispered as he took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. "The kids are back at school and we have the whole place to ourselves."

Hermione sighed; they had made a deal a long time ago, back after the twins, Rose and James, had been born (but before Lily came along two years later) that, in order to keep a sparkle in their love life, one night a week one of them would choose that night for them to make love and, other than for some form of illness, the other wouldn't refuse. She thought of the work piled up in the study, the ever-longer hours they were both putting in at work and reminded herself that this was exactly why they'd made the deal – so that they didn't end up finding reasons not to have sex and lose the physical side of their relationship that they both enjoyed so much. She melted into her husband's kisses and allowed him to lead her back to the master bedroom, enjoying the feeling of his hands as they navigated her body, slowly, tenderly and teasingly, both over her clothes and slipping under them before finally undressing her. She helped him out of his own clothes but, despite the best efforts of his hands, tongue and manhood, the distractions of work meant that she remained frustratingly unfulfilled by the time they were done.

"I'm sorry, love," she whispered as they cuddled in the moonlight; whether it was her lack of reaction or his own exhaustion she wasn't sure but Harry had seemed equally unsatisfied afterwards, "there's just so much going on that…" she trailed off helplessly.

"I know, I feel the same but I don't want us to lose what we've always had," his own whisper sounded almost fearful. "I just wish there was something we could do like… go away somewhere, just the two of us and forget about the rest of the world for a bit."

"No chance," she snorted out a disappointed laugh, "these days we use all our holidays when the kids are home."

"I know but… even getting out of here one Friday, taking a Portkey to the Algarve or somewhere for the weekend, just getting away from it all for a couple of nights."

"Maybe," she agreed as she couldn't deny the idea's appeal to her. _Or maybe we could try something else_ , she thought as an idea hit her; her heart rate began to rise rapidly. "For now," she whispered, a huskiness appearing in her voice as she suddenly felt re-energised, "we can always try again," she purred, pushing his shoulder gently with her left hand and rolling him onto his back before she straddled him. Her right hand found its way between his legs and began the task of recharging his "other wand" as they had come to describe it if there was a chance of little ears overhearing them.

It was a slightly more satisfied couple that fell asleep that night.

 _Tuesday, 6_ _th_ _September 2011_

Harry was the first to awaken, smiling through the quantities of hair that were covering his mouth and his face. Having his wife's naked body pressing tightly against his was an opportunity too good to ignore and he began gently tracing her soft curves and contours with his hands before kissing his way down towards her sensitive centre.

"Mmm," he heard a throaty, contented sigh just as he approached his target, " _that's_ the best way to wake up on a morning." Hermione tugged on his hair gently, encouraging him to abandon his efforts; he nuzzled his way up her body, though, before ultimately coming level with her head. Hermione kissed him gently as they verbalised their morning greetings before exchanging a few more tender loving kisses. Hermione groaned before long, however, as she saw the time. "I have to be at work soon," she complained, reluctantly removing herself from her husband's embrace and hopping off the bed. She cast a quick cleansing charm (not feeling she had time for a shower) and pulled on her dress robes; Harry did likewise and followed her to the kitchen where Kreacher was waiting with breakfast before they headed to the floo and their respective work places.

* * *

Once again Hermione was first home and once again she was in her study when Harry finished work. This time, however, the door was closed and locked; it was another of their agreements – essentially a "Do not disturb" sign.

"Hermione," he knocked softly on the door, "dinner will be a few minutes," and he headed upstairs to change out of his work robes.

Little did Harry know that Hermione, while she _was_ hard at work, wasn't doing paperwork. Instead she had floo-called Hogwarts that morning and pleaded with Headmistress McGonagall to let her borrow " _Most Potente Potions_ ". Her old Transfiguration teacher had agreed to let her have it for a day and, after leaving work, Mrs Potter had made a quick stop at the apothecary in Diagon Alley for the supplies she needed.

"That's it," she smiled as she dropped the last of the ingredients in, giving the small cauldron the requisite number of stirs and wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans. "Next week Mr Potter," she whispered excitedly before reducing the power of her flame charm to a gentle simmer and carefully covering the cauldron with its lid. She quietly opened the door of the study, checked that her husband was nowhere in sight and left the room, locking the door again behind her and making her way to the kitchen, surprising him with her presence as he entered.

"I thought you were still in the study," he gestured to the closed door.

"No," she smiled sweetly, "but I didn't want a draught or anything interfering with what I'm doing. You know how easy it is to knock over an ink bottle," she added innocently; he nodded.

"I've a ton of work to do myself tonight," he complained. She pulled him into a hug and kissed him sympathetically.

After a quick dinner they disappeared to their respective studies; after making sure that the potion was coming along nicely and removing the flame from underneath it Hermione sat at her desk as she really _did_ have a lot of work to do as well. Though, unlike a usual evening, she couldn't help but smile as her eyes flickered towards the corner where the innocent-looking cauldron sat.

 _Wednesday, 14_ _th_ _September 2011_.

"Finally, it's ready," Hermione smiled as she got home and checked on the potion. "Kreacher?" she called softly.

"Yes mistress?" the elf appeared at her side.

"Could you add one tea-spoon of this potion to Harry's cup of tea and one to mine tonight please?"

"Of course, mistress," he agreed without question.

"And can we have dinner ready as soon as Harry gets in please."

"Kreacher does as master and mistress say," he confirmed.

"Thank you," she nodded and he disappeared with the customary _crack_. Hermione headed into their bedroom to change out of her work robes.

Harry returned a few minutes later to be greeted by Kreacher informing him that dinner was already being served. The weary auror was surprised by the news but took a seat at the table, smiling as his wife joined them in the kitchen and took a seat next to him.

"Hello Harry," she kissed him luxuriously.

"What was that for?" he asked, mind dazed.

"Just for being you," she replied with a smirk, "now eat up."

"Yes, dear," he grinned at her, causing her to gently swat his arm.

* * *

"Kreacher, can we have tea in the lounge tonight please?" Hermione asked with a pointed look at the elf.

"Of course, mistress," he agreed, "Kreacher will have your cups there by the time you get there."

She thanked him again and led a slightly confused Harry up to the room.

The first sip of his drink had a dramatic effect on Harry; he knew his wife was a beautiful woman but suddenly he wanted nothing other than to ravish her endlessly. Looking back later he would compare it to being under the influence of the allure of a Veela, only this time the object of his desire was sitting very, very close to him.

While Hermione was equally infatuated from the first sip, her foreknowledge allowed her to maintain a modicum of self-control. "Finish your drink, Harry," she instructed him as she saw his green eyes clouding over, taking another swig of her own tea and enjoying the potion working its magic and clearing her mind and body of fatigue.

Harry took another sip, his eyes never leaving his wife. Her body seemed to change before his eyes, her breasts becoming fuller, her lips redder, her waist and hips a little narrower (despite his rational mind screaming that she was perfect the way she was). Another sip and he suddenly imagined that he could see through her clothes, eyes sweeping lovely over her, caressing her.

Hermione shivered as her husband reacted to the potion; it was having a similar effect on her but she maintained sufficient presence of mind to transfigure the settee next to them into a large bed. "Make love to me, my husband," she urged huskily.

Harry was on his feet in an instant; he set his half-drunk tea down (Hermione was thankful for Kreacher's stay-warm charms on the cups as she put hers down next to his) and swept the woman into his arms, pressing his lips against hers, tongue pushing urgently against them, demanding entrance, which it was duly given. The couple's tongues duelled for dominance as their hands roamed each other's backs before Harry's slipped inside the back pockets of her jeans and began to squeeze her bum. She groaned at the feeling and that sparked something inside Harry's mind; he withdrew his hands and moved them to the front, undoing her jeans and yanking them down. She eagerly kicked them off, by which time his hands were in the front of her knickers, feeling her wetness (and causing it to increase). The thin garment was soon removed as well and his tongue darted inside her folds, causing her to shiver; Harry's hands moved to her bare bottom, holding her in place as he continued his ministrations.

Enjoying the sensations, Hermione stripped her T-shirt, tossing it to the side before unclipping her bra, which she playfully dropped on her husband's head; to her surprise he completely ignored this and carried on licking, making her legs wobble (only his hands on her bum kept her upright). Her hands moved to her breasts and she began to squeeze them, brushing her thumbs over her hardening nipples.

Harry's tongue quickly brought his wife to orgasm; he let go of her rear and a gentle nudge sent her falling backwards onto the bed. Hermione's eyes snapped open in surprise as she fell; she gave a predatory smile as Harry began to remove his robes in front of her before joining her, naked, on the conjured bed.

As Hermione was already wet and ready from a combination of the potion's effects and Harry's tongue, she wasted little time in encouraging him to enter her, which he did eagerly. The sex was frenzied and passionate as the potion worked its magic with raw lust taking over their minds. Harry pushed into her, thrusting deeply and urgently before orgasming with a loud, throaty cry. This added to the sensations his wife was experiencing and she followed him to her peak, groaning in satisfaction as she came.

The lust potion was still coursing through Harry's veins; it gave him more energy than he'd had in a long time and, rather than withdrawing, he continued to thrust his hips, bringing himself towards a second, then a third, climax. Each of these helped Hermione to her own orgasm and the weary, sweat-soaked couple finally collapsed on the bed cuddling one another and trading soft kisses as the potion's effects began to wear off and they regained control of their minds and bodies.

"What happened there? Was there something in our food?" Harry asked breathlessly as they snuggled, basking in the afterglow of their love making; it was the best session they'd had in longer than either would care to admit.

"It was in our tea, "Hermione admitted, her cheeks turning red, "I borrowed _Moste Potente Potions_ from McGonagall and brewed a lust potion." Harry almost choked with amusement at her sheepishness; Hermione joined him in laughter.

"You _do_ know that they're _technically_ illegal, don't you? And that you work _in the Ministry_. _For the Minister_ ," he pointed out gently with a grin once his laughter subsided.

"Yes," she conceded a little awkwardly, "but the law tends to look the other way when a married couple use it just between themselves."

"Still, I'm an Auror; I have to uphold the law," he declared mock-sternly, pulling himself into a sitting position on the bed and fixing her with a firm stare.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, putting a trace of nervousness into her voice; it had been a while, before her second pregnancy, since they'd last role-played 'Auror and Criminal'. Harry grinned and summoned the two cups to them.

"First, you're going to drink up," he commanded; playing the meek little wife, Hermione complied instantly, downing the remainder of her drink. "Good girl," he smiled when she was done; he took a small sip of his own tea, just to help but not enough for him to lose control. "Now, come here," he took her arm and gently but firmly positioned her until she was bent over his lap. Hermione bit her lip, especially as Harry rested his left hand on her bare arse. She couldn't believe she was in this position, couldn't believe what he was clearly about to do: and couldn't believe that she was not only going to let him but was quivering and almost dripping wet with anticipation of it.

She yelped when the first swat hit her rump; it was enough to sting but nowhere near hard enough to actually hurt her. A second slap to the other cheek caused her to jolt and stiffen. "Naughty girls need punishing," her husband taunted her, delivering two more spanks; he smiled as he felt the juices leaking from his wife and running onto his thighs. _She_ smiled as she enjoyed the sensation in spite of her rational mind (in fact it was totally suppressed by the potion) and also the effect it was all having on her hardening husband. After a total of ten smacks he began to lovingly caress the reddened flesh. "Have you learnt your lesson?" he asked; she turned to him.

"Yes," she confirmed, her eyes were heavy-lidded but, despite the potion she still had a modicum of control, "I _definitely_ have to do this again!" She wriggled herself into position and mounted her laughing husband, leaning down to cover his body with her own; the loving couple kissed and fondled one another as they made love again. She had a suspicion that, rather than cleaning charms, tomorrow morning they would be sharing a shower; she hoped that she remembered to remind Kreacher to wake them early enough.

 _Friday, 16_ _th_ _September 2011_.

"It's from McGonagall," Hermione told Harry as she perused the letter Kreacher had just handed her as they ate breakfast. "The twins were caught leaving the clock tower yesterday after dinner; Scorpius Malfoy was found there too – tied to the hour hand." Her mouth was twitching at the corners, despite the fact that she _should_ be feeling horrified at the behaviour of her offspring.

Harry tried to suppress his laughter, really he did. It emerged within ten seconds though, partly due to the broad grin his wife wore as she lost any semblance of annoyance. "Does Minerva want to see us?" he asked when he calmed himself enough.

"She didn't say so in as many words but I suspect our presence may be requested soon," she replied.

"Are you _sure_ we can't take that Portkey to the Algarve tonight?" Harry asked hopefully.

Hermione seemed to think it over for a second before she smiled. "I'll pack my swimsuit," she told him, " _and_ some of my potion – just in case."

Harry's eyes gleamed; he stood up and took her hand as they headed to their room to pack for their weekend before heading off to work.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading, just a fluffy little one-shot I've been writing off and on for a little while between other projects. PD**


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